


only molecules

by triforced



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Schmoop, TRK spoilers, actually life is amazing what a time to be alive, extended chapter 39, i am not ok, i have sO MANY FEELINGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforced/pseuds/triforced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surreal is Adam Parrish chasing after his mouth when Ronan had already pulled back. </p>
<p>(TRK SPOILERS OK GUYS.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	only molecules

Surreal is Adam Parrish chasing after his mouth when Ronan had already pulled back - to draw deep, unsteady breaths, to get his bearings, to find an anchor to tether him to the here and the now and this, and this, and this. I'm going to die, he thinks, I'm going to come apart, until I'm only molecules. (Every last one wanting Adam, a sequence, strand after strand like DNA.)

Surreal is Adam's hands, his beautiful, long-fingered hands at the base of Ronan's skull, a press and release, press and release against his skin in a bid to drag him close again. "Come back," Adam says, or at least, Ronan thinks he does; he may have imagined it, the words so soft, carried away on the breeze. But then, once more, "Come back." Noses bump, press together, mouths so close they breathe each other's breath, and Ronan is dizzy, his hands on Adam's ribs a support as much as a yearning for closeness, for connection. And the third time, "Come back."

Ronan breathes, moves his mouth enough for their top lips to slide together, breathes some more, with effort. Adam's grip on him tightens and he feels his heart flutter in his chest, wonders for how much longer his legs will bear his own weight. "Inside," he rallies, and his voice is halfway between a rasp and a whisper. "Let's go inside." But stronger now. "Shit, Parrish."

His eyes closed, Adam tips his head back, sighs the long-suffering sigh reserved for disgruntled old men lamenting the state of young people these days. He opens his eyes. "Go, go," he says, his hands flat on Ronan's chest, gently shoving him toward the door. "You worthless heathen, lead me to your den of iniquity."

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. (Ugh, shame on you, Ronan Lynch.)

"Please," Ronan says, mock contempt oozing from his pores. He bangs the door open because doors the world over are meant to be opened in such a fashion, there's a writ somewhere, he's sure. After a moment of indecision (it is a tense moment, a giddily nervous one, the part of Ronan's brain that doesn't believe this is actually his life speaking the loudest and the clearest), he sets a course for the living room and the large, comfortable couch there. "The wait staff would eat you alive first."

"Asshole," comes Adam's prim rejoinder. He follows close on Ronan's heels, remembering to shut the door behind him - gently.

Ronan grins out of the corner of his mouth. He can see the couch, can see the way the middle cushion sags a bit under the weight of countless backsides, can see the old afghan draped over an armrest. He swallows around the lump in his throat, listens for the hummingbird beat of his heart in his ears. The break, apparently, hasn't helped very much.

How long was Adam a guarded secret in his deck, how long had Ronan believed that's all he would ever be?

Ronan's cards are on the table, face up.

Adam, who saw himself in the deck a while ago, brushes past him, goes to the couch, sits down on the middle cushion. He stretches his arms above his head, then turns his body to the side, swings his legs up. Sprawls, one foot on the afghan-draped armrest. "Come back," he says, eyes on Ronan's, bright and soft at once.

I'm only molecules, Ronan thinks as he closes the distance between them, as he sinks to his knees beside the couch, brushes strands of hair away from Adam's forehead, drags the pads of his fingers along the side of Adam's face, the face turned toward his, focused only on him, as if he's all that exists. "I'm back, I'm back," Ronan says, and kisses him.

(Come back, Adam said. Come back. Maybe, just maybe, Adam will come back some day, too.)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 39 was the beating heart in my chest but I needed just a liiiiiiiittle more. So yeah. I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR THE RAVEN CYCLE BEFORE I'M SORRY IF THIS SUCKS.


End file.
